Piano Man
by and I think to myself
Summary: "Music is a type of magic all of its own." Belated OQSS 2015 gift for bianka-bee on tumblr.


_He says, "Son can you play me a memory_

 _I'm not really sure how it goes_

 _But it's sad and it's sweet_

 _And I knew it complete_

 _When I wore a younger man's clothes."_

Piano Man - Billy Joel

.:.

Morning routines in the Hood-Mills household have become something of a well-practised puzzle since two became four, became five. It took a while to get used to having four extra feet and two knees and hands pattering about, and 4 sets of lungs to compete with but after a couple of weeks, every member knew where they needed to be and at what time like the back of their hand.

Everyone in town would probably assume Regina to be the first up and about, her motherly and mayoral duties calling her from sleep and into action. But old habits die hard, and being used to rising with the sun, it is Robin who normally starts off the morning routine. Maybe it's the joy he gets from waking up and spending a few minutes admiring his love's face, so gentle and peaceful during sleep in a way it rarely is when she's awake. Or maybe it's the utter quiet of the dawn as he checks in on their children (all three of them, _theirs_ ) and stealthily makes his way downstairs to kitchen to start up the coffee, filling the house with the deep rich scent of the aromatic beans, filling two thick ceramic mugs and taking a moment to just _breathe._

Or maybe it's making his way back upstairs with the second mug, returning just in time to greet a dewy skinned, fresh faced Regina, awoken by the absence of her favourite pillow and personal heater, and fresh from her morning shower, her elusive smile shining as bright as the rising sun.

Yes, Robin definitely has a lot to enjoy about being the first awake. _Usually._

.:.

Robin doesn't see the dawn of the first Monday in November. Instead, he is bed bound and sleeping like the dead when the sun rolls into the sky. A winter bug has been sweeping round the school taking out children and parents alike. Two weeks ago had seen Roland curled up on the couch downstairs, a downy blanket wrapped round his shivering shoulders and enough tissues to fill a book while he blinked groggily at the TV or succumbed to sleep. Last week Regina had been the one fighting through coughing fits and a stuffy nose. The baby has been taken in by Mary Margaret for the week to take some of the burden, after Regina eventually conceded that a germ-infested house was not the best place for a new born. This week it is apparently Robin's turn.

.:.

The first thing that Robin hears as he drifts back into consciousness is music coming from the adjoining bathroom. The smooth, dulcet tones of a… is that a _piano?_

Blinking sleep from sticky eyes, a groan forces its way out his throat as he raises his head to look for the source of the sound. Logically, Robin has learnt enough about technology in this realm to know that the music is likely coming from Regina's phone. Unfortunately for Robin – and Regina this morning – his brain is too fogged up with illness to take notice of logical thought, and by the time his brain catches up that there most likely _isn't_ a full sized piano somehow squeezed into the bathroom, his feet have managed to drag him to the doorway without any conscious instructions to do so.

Cracking open the doorway, Robin's dulled senses are immediately engulfed by the vision before him. Hot, scented steam of apple and ginger he so loves to get a whiff of when he buries his face in Regina's hair. The melodious echo of the music, clearer in here, yet still having to compete with the water slapping against tiles. And the sight of Regina wet, slick and soapy behind frosted glass, well that would be enough to make any man's brain short-circuit. So for a moment Robin just leans against the doorjamb and stares lovingly at his soul-mate (well, lovingly and possibly lustfully if he's honest. _God._ How did he get so lucky?)

She'd been facing the wall when he first came in, hands up behind her head and working suds into her dark hair, but as she turns to tip her head back into the spray, her eyes widen and he hears her emit a small yelp at the unexpected sight of an intruder in the bathroom.

He gives a cavalier little wave, and by her reaction, for a second he think's he's misjudged. That he's caught her in a bad mood and she's about to turn those expressive dark eyes stormy and berate him for startling her so early in the day. But instead she grins saucily at him, turns back around and gives her hips a little shimmy for extra emphasis. The little minx.

Stripping his pyjamas off with a speed that surprises even him, Robin snaps open the shower door and steps in.

"What are you doing awake?" He can practically hear her grin despite the nonchalant question. "I was sure you'd be out for the count, at least until noon."

"I admit, it did take me a while to get my brain going. I heard the music and at first wasn't entirely sure how you'd managed to fit a piano in here."

"Ah so not all awake then."

She's baiting, he can tell. And normally he'd act ignorant, work up her own frustration further, but he'll be damned if he turns down a wet and naked Regina right in front of him.

"I assure milady, I am awake enough."

Stepping in closer so she can feel for herself just how awake he is, Robin reaches up to massage her head and work the bubbles through her thick locks.

"Well then," She gives another little shimmy, her backside rubbing against him, enticing him further. "I'd better make the most of it before you drop off in your dinner again."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" He questions, just before she whirls around in his arms and drops to her knees, effectively caging him in the corner of the shower, as she proceeds to give him a very thorough wake up indeed.

.:.

Robin has never seen their house like this. Or in fact anything like it at all. The mansion is exploding at the seams. With people talking, laughter ringing, music permeating every spare corner, aromas of delectable food and wine invading delicate senses, and everything infused with a sense of joy and happiness.

The concept of Thanksgiving was still one Robin wasn't sure he had quite wrapped his head around, but he wasn't about to complain considering the wealth of mouth-watering food Regina had concocted and the party she had chosen (not without a certain amount of hinting and suggestion from Snow he's sure) to throw. Not that it hadn't come without its down sides. Seeing Regina in a constant state of stress and anxiety had been downright heart breaking, not least because she seemed adamant that no one would want to come to a party hosted by an ex-evil queen. He hoped to the heavens above that the turn out and complete success of today would go some way into finally convincing her that the rest of the town had forgiven her.

He scans the crowded room for sight of the woman in question. Henry is there by the fireplace deep in a discussion with Violet, (no surprises there) and Granny seems to be having a rather heated debate with Marco over something by the food table.

In the corner, Snow is sitting with Roland on her lap. Goodness knows what they're talking about, but Robin hopes it doesn't include Snow recounting stories of her own days as an outlaw, while the miniature thief stuffs cookies in his mouth, dropping crumbs everywhere. (Earlier Snow had stopped said miniature outlaw just as he was about to make off with a whole plate of cookies, asking just what he thought he was doing. ' _Practicing my sneaking. I gotta get good so I can teach my sister how to do it too!'_ And that of course – coupled with the puppy eyes Robin was well acquainted with - had melted Snow's sugar coated heart right there on the spot.)

But still no sign of Regina.

Emma is standing near by, bouncing a grinning and bubbly Neal on her hip and trying (without much success it seems) to get her brother to say her name.

"Come on Neal you know you want to. I'm gonna tell everyone you said it anyway so you might as well try. Eh-ma. EH-ma."

Neal just proceeds to blow wet bubbles over his bib, and Robin cannot stifle his chuckle at Emma's disgusted face, quickly silencing when she looks up at the sound.

"You'd better keep quiet about this Locksley," She grunted, narrowly missing being hit in the face by a flying pudgy fist, and instead adopting a pose that would be threatening, if it weren't for the toddler giggling and clapping his hands in amusement. "I know people who can kill you 18 different ways with just a paperclip." She tries to act threatening, but Robin can see the humour in her eyes - a sight that had been in short supply until recently. It's a welcome change.

"Don't worry Emma. Your secret's safe with me." He takes one last look around the room before asking, "I don't suppose you've seen Regina anywhere have you?"

Emma turns fully to face him, adjusting the toddler on her hip for a second as she thinks.

"She might have gone upstairs to put the kid down for the night. She was making some very strange noises when I last heard her." Her mouth quirks up into and slight smirk. "And your daughter wasn't faring much better."

Robin can't help but let out a burst of laughter at that. "Duly noted. I'll just go check on them see if everything's all right." Robin pauses, and then as an afterthought, adds, "and he'd better be saying 'Robin' by the time I get back." He grins at her, reaching out to give Neal a gentle tickle to his tummy, drawing it back again hastily when he realises it's still drool covered. Robin takes that as his cue, and makes a swift retreat towards the door, the sound of Emma's laugh following him out the room.

.:.

"Regina?"

Robin cracks open the door of the nursery and peers into the darkness inside. He can't see much, but he can hear the soothing melody of Regina's favourite piano music filling the room. Stepping in closer and pushing the door shut again gently behind him, Robin takes a moment to just admire the scene before him and commit it to memory.

Regina is curled up in the nursing chair across the room, rocking gently to the music. One hand is supporting their precious daughter against her chest, tiny fingers fisted into the hem of her shirt, while miniature rosebud lips puff air across her collar bone, fluttering a stray lock of hair with every exhale. Regina's other hand however, is… well… dancing. Arm raised and fully animated, her fingers are fluttering and twirling, caught up on the musical breeze, or maybe creating it - so intertwined with the flowing music it's difficult to tell.

It's not until the piece comes to an end that Robin realises he's been holding his breath. So caught up in the vision before him that even the slightest disturbance in the air might have broken the gossamer web of magic the music had woven.

"I know you're there. You can come further than two steps you know."

Though the whispered words themselves speak of her usual sass, the slight waver and crack of her voice speak louder than anything. As he draws nearer, Robin can see a slight glisten in her eyes and quiver in her smile. Something is wrong. And he hates it.

"Regina, what–"

His words a cut short when Regina blinks up at him, dislodging a single tear that streaks down her cheek.

"My love..." He sighs. Not of weariness or exasperation, but the sight of Regina so openly vulnerable and upset breaks his heart in a way that seems to shatter the very breath of his lungs. Reaching out to brush away the wetness on her cheeks, Robin kneels down and sets a hand on her knee, his thumb slowly brushing back and forth across the soft denim.

Regina meets his gaze, and for a moment looks like a fish out of water, her dark eyes reflecting the fear and sadness he know she's feeling, while her mouth opens and closes repeatedly, wanting to speak but unsure of words to say. But Robin waits her out. Draws his hands up and down her thighs in smooth, steady passes, conveying a silent message, 'I'm here, I won't leave you.'

Taking a deep steadying, breath, Regina starts to speak, looking down at her hand and fiddling with her ring as she does so.

"Daddy used to play this piece for me. Mother only allowed it because she believed it to be a more ladylike pastime than horse riding. She'd tell me, 'a lady should be graceful,' and piano, it seemed was graceful enough to be allowed."

She sighs, a great, defeated sound, and looks down at the infant asleep on her chest, bringing her free hand up to stroke the fine curls of hair that had started to grow on her downy head. Robin can tell she wants to say more, but he doesn't push her. Instead he just presses his lips gently to her left knee, and catches her hand as it floats down to him, linking their fingers tightly together and giving a slight squeeze.

"What if–" Regina hiccoughs slightly, and takes another deep breath in, trying to steady her erratic breathing. "What if I end up like her? I loved Daddy so much, and Mother too. But I don't want to become her. What if I make our daughter hate me like–" The words get caught in her throat, and the hand that had come to link with Robins own is suddenly wrenched from his grasp as fingers press tightly to her lips, eyes squeezed shut.

"Hey now, none of that. You won't Regina, of course you won't" Robin urges softly, the gentle force in his voice makes her eyes open again to meet his determined gaze. "And do you know how I know that? Because the proof is right here in these hands."

She throws him a mildly confused look, probably wondering where he's going with this. And truthfully Robin doesn't really know. He just knows that he loves the woman in front of him with all his heart, and would do anything he could to assuage her fears.

"Yes, these hands have caused a fair share of bloodshed, but not anymore. These hands have also raised Henry from a baby. And rolled out sugar cookies with Roland. And held our daughter in your arms."

He takes her hand again, this time bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles with every point he makes.

"These hands have split Snow White's heart – your once mortal enemy - and saved her life. They've rescued a child you hardly knew just to save an innocent's life. Not to mention the countless times you've saved the whole town from demons and dark ones, and probably economical and financial ruin." He glances into her eyes at that, hoping to see a wisp of humour back in her eyes, and is not disappointed by the gentle smirk of her mouth. "And if what I heard walking in is anything to go by, the magic they can create with music far surpasses any other of your fancy tricks I'm sure. And then there's the magic the can do in certain other areas as well." That earns him mild thwack on the shoulder, but it was worth it for the way her face lights up. Eyes still moist and shining, but this time (he hopes) from a happier emotion.

"Come to bed," he urges, "you've had a long day love." But instead of rising with him, Regina just shakes her head gently. He thinks she's about to say no, but instead she just smiles, still shaking her head, and pulls him down for a kiss reminiscent of their first, full of pain and emotion, but also love.

When they break apart, Robin reaches up to draw that wayward lock of hair behind her ear, and he is sucker punched with how beautiful she is, and how lucky he is, _God,_ he just loves her so much.

"You go on and put this little one to bed," he tells her, gently cupping the baby's soft head, "and I'll be back in a minute."

Regina looks as if to object, but he silences her with another kiss before she can speak. "I love you so much," he whispers.

"I love you too."

He presses one last kiss to Regina's lips; another to the little girl still fast asleep, and quietly leaves the room.

.:.

Robin has a plan. He can feel the fluttering of it in his fingertips. The beginning of plan, just waiting for the go ahead to let it take flight, and, as he descends the staircase back down to the small party, he scans the room to see where Marco has gone. If this plan is going to work, he might need a bit of expertise to help him.

.:.

Robin had originally hoped to keep his idea and subsequent plan a secret from all unnecessary ears. He had the feeling that the Charming's were not ones to easily keep things to themselves, and he knew for a fact that 6-year-old mouths could not be relied upon to stay silent. However, he had not relied upon the fact that Henry had a penchant for sleuthing, so when his increasingly feeble excuses of "David needs some extra hands at the Sheriffs office," and "I'm just going to Granny's for a catch up with Little John," began earning him suspicious looks from Regina and Henry alike, it shouldn't really have surprised him when on one such expedition, he was accosted halfway down Main Street by a very stern looking Henry Mills.

"What are you doing?"

"Henry!" Robin gulps, trying to think on his feet. "Shouldn't you be doing your homework?"

But he is not about to be budged. "Where are you going? Granny's is that way." The accusatory frown on Henry's face is so much like Regina's that Robin has to try very hard to quell his smirk, yet not hard enough apparently, as Henry's stance goes from suspicious to straight up defensive, arms crossed tight across his chest. "If you're cheating on my Mom then – "

"What?! Henry no of course not!"

Robin had been debating whether to tell him another diversionary tale, but if that's the conclusion he'd come to about him sneaking about, then he decides he'd better come clean.

"Listen. This has to be a complete secret okay?" Henry's face noticeably perks up, and he steps the tiniest bit closer.

"I'm going to see Marco. He's helping me with something for your Mom, but you have to promise you won't tell anybody at all. I want it to be a complete secret."

Henry's face completely lights up at Robin's confession. "Awesome! Can we give it a code name? All the best secret operations have to have a code name. I think it should be Operation Reindeer, because it's nearly Christmas."

Relieved at Henry's reaction, Robin grins and hooks an arm round his shoulder as they resume walking. They have a lot of planning to do.

.:.

Christmas seemed to arrive in a flurry of activity that all happened so quickly, Robin wonders whether they found another time portal accidentally. What with Henry catching a sudden bout of flu, Roland's first ever school Christmas play, and Robin being pulled in for extra shifts at the Sherriff's station, he feared that Operation Reindeer might not be complete in time for Christmas at all. Henry however, with the heart of a true believer, was a constant and welcome source of encouragement, so that, by the time Christmas Eve rolled around, the main part of the operation was successfully complete.

Regina had gone out to buy some last minute bits and pieces in preparation for Christmas dinner the next day, taking a very fussy and miserable teething baby with her in the hope that the trip and change of scenery would distract her, which provided Robin, Henry and Roland (well, they couldn't well leave him in the dark and alone while they went off to cart home Regina's present could they? So Henry had 'debriefed' him on the mission that morning) with the perfect opportunity to pick up the completed project from Marco's workshop and bring it back to the mansion without Regina noticing.

"Where we gonna put it when we get home?" Roland asks as they're making their way along Mifflin Street in David's old truck. "I think Regina might see it if we leave it out, don't you think Henry?"

Robin can't help but grin as his son sought after approval, eager to impress his new older brother with his astute observation.

"Yeah you're right," Henry agrees solemnly. "We'll have to find a really good place to hide it so Mom doesn't see."

"I think we should put it in the garage." Roland suggests firmly, head bobbing in a resolute nod. "We never go in there anyway. And then Santa can use his magic and put it by the tree for when she wakes up."

"I think that's a fine suggestion Roland," Robin replies, pulling into their driveway, trying not to grimace at how _he_ will be the one trying to get it into the house before everyone wakes, and he certainly doesn't have any magic to help him. But for now they have more pressing matters to worry about, like how they're going to get the thing off the truck and into the garage. Robin sighs and rubs a hand over his face before reaching for the door and popping it open. "Right men come on! We've got work to do."

.:.

For the second time in as many months, Robin awakes to an empty bed and the sound of running water and piano music coming from the adjoining bathroom. But this time, he grins and takes the opportunity to sneak out of the room while Regina is distracted. The plan was that should Roland and Henry wake up before their parents, (a feat that was pretty much guaranteed) they were allowed to open their stockings, but under no circumstances were they to go downstairs until Robin came to fetch them. As he tiptoed his way along the corridor, collecting his fussing daughter on the way, Robin could already hear the sound of low chatter and giggling coming from the boys' room. As soon as he peeked his head through the door, Roland shot up from his sprawled position on the floor where both boys were sitting admiring a toy train set. ( _Complete with working model steam train!_ the box stated in bold red letters)

"Can we go downstairs now Papa? Can we? Can we? Please?"

Roland was hopping from foot to foot and making a facial expression of such intense excitement that even his sister let out a gurgling giggle, encouraging him further to start doing an impromptu dance of excitement, making more exaggerated silly face each time.

"What do you think Henry?" Robin asked, his voice coloured in amusement. The Christmas excitement was infectious, and though Henry tried to play nonchalant as he rose to stand next to them, Robin could see the anticipation shining in his eyes as well.

"Yeah," he replies. "Let's go see what Santa brought."

.:.

"Robin? Hello? Is anybody there?"

Three boys try to stifle their giggles as Regina calls out to an apparently empty house, no doubt concerned at the absence of the rest of her family. But as she descends the stairs, Robin motions for everyone to stay silent as they all stay stock still, backs ramrod straight standing in front of the finished work of Operation Reindeer.

"Boys? Where are – "

She rounds the corner into the living room, and stops abruptly, eyes narrowing in suspicion at the grinning mass of her family in front of her.

"What's going on?"

"Daddy got you a present!" Roland pipes up eagerly. "And then Henry helped decorate it and I helped to push it!"

They all stand to the side as Robin turns round to whip off the makeshift blanket cover, and Regina's jaw goes slack.

The upright piano stands proudly next to the Christmas tree, and the twinkling fairy lights cast delicate light and shade on the array of intricate patterns, words and pictures carved lovingly into the wood. The finished product is gorgeous (if Robin may say so himself). The varying tones of the mahogany, shining deep reds and browns in the sparkling lights only enhance the contrast of the paler flesh underneath, giving the carved scenes a magic and life of their own.

"We were going to sing to you, but it seems we are rather lacking in any musical accompaniment to keep us in some semblance of tune." He smiles softly, cupping her hands and gently coaxing her towards him - towards the piano. "Care to do the honours milady?" The words are spoken gently, feather light. He can see Regina is on the verge of tears – happy ones this time at least – but still he has yet to see that elusive smile, and he would so love to hear her play.

He gives her hands a little squeeze, but Regina's eyes are transfixed on the instrument behind him, and he's not sure she's even listening anymore. One of her hands comes up to press to her mouth, and Robin steps back, watching as she takes slow hesitant steps. Fingers reach out to lightly trace the delicate carvings etched into the front panel.

"I don't understand," she breathes, still gazing at the mahogany woodwork with a kind of reverence Robin can't help but be proud of. "How… how did you do this?"

"I'll admit, the piano itself I was fortunate enough to find in Gold's shop, but I happen to know very good carpenter who seems highly invested in seeing you get a happy ending." He hears her breath hitch a little, but continues on, "and then I also had the help of another young man, who is very persevering when it comes to showing you how much you've changed, and that you _deserve_ this. So if you ever need a reminder of how amazing you are and the good that your hands can do – that _you_ can do…" Robin motions for her to take a seat on the cushioned bench by his hip. "You just sit down," he lifts the lid to reveal the row of shining keys underneath, "and play."

He steps back from the piano then, giving her space to gather her thoughts – she's still in a sort of daze – so Robin joins the children of their family and patiently waits, looping his arms round both boys and their daughter, held tightly in Henry's arms.

It is this action that seems to spur Regina out of her daze, for when she looks up to see them all standing together, watching her with an expectant sort of glee, she breaks. Her mouth splits open into that absolutely stunning smile he'd dreamed of, eyes finally overflowing with tears and emotion as she lets out a watery, yet beautiful laugh of pure happiness.

"All right then you sneaky bunch, what should I play?"

Roland breaks free from his father's side and runs up to Regina, unable to hold back his excitement any longer, his little body bouncing up and down trying to see the keys, until Regina picks him and plops him right next to her on the bench.

"Can you play a Christmas song so we can all sing?" he begs excitedly.

"Of course we can, how does 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' sound?"

Roland nods frantically the beckons Henry to come closer with their sister. "She's gonna see magic for the first time!"

Regina glances up at Robin then, meeting his eyes for the first time since she saw the piano. No words are exchanged, but there is no need. He can read exactly what she's trying to say. And when Regina starts playing that first magical tune, Robin smiles down at his love, his family, and thinks Operation Reindeer was an all round success.

He can only hope that nobody notices the slight scratch marks at various intervals along the hallway…


End file.
